


Making Good Use of Visitor's Hour

by Anonymous



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove Lives, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Facial Shaving, Gen, Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21781894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A whole lot changed after the Mind Flayer. There was  at least one thing that Max could keep the same for her brother while he lay stuck in a military hospital/lab.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39
Collections: Anonymous





	Making Good Use of Visitor's Hour

* * *

  
  
Max set everything out on the bedside cabinet in preparation. A bowl of hot water, shaving foam, a few towels, and of course the razor. It was a safety razor, because everyone she'd spoken to for tips had got a look of panic and told her to use one before she had the chance to ask about it, despite the fact most of them hated Billy.

She'd also got Billy to laugh. That had been an accident, but one that made her feel like this would go a lot better than it might have. And, unreasonably, like everything would go better.

He was still chuckling as she started patting at his face and neck with warm, damp towels. "I can't believe you barricaded the door."

"I'm just glad they finally took the hint and quit knocking," Max grumbled. Being that polite was probably a big deal for military personnel, but jeez, neither of the two of them were soldiers that had to obey orders. "I _told_ them we don't feel like being investigated for the next half hour. Shifting the furniture is just the punctuation on that."

Billy sighed - deflating against the tilt of his hospital bed, good mood flatter. He got tired so fast now. "They still have the cameras."

"Exactly." She looked up to talk exaggeratedly into the closest one, a black eye in the corner of the ceiling. "So you know we're not doing anything apocalyptic or scientifically relevant!" OK, that sounded kind of dumb. "Or whatever."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Maxine, my face could still start morphing if you press too hard. Might get an irresistible urge to eat the razor."

One of those was likely. Max resolved to look her blandest if Billy's skin did shift too much under her touch. She'd kid around about drawing a smiley in the ooze if she had to convince him it wasn't such a big deal to her. She'd put every damn part of him _back where it should be_.

Max started putting on the shaving foam. Careful along the planes of his cheeks, a little way down his neck, around his chin and mouth.

"Hey. Remember what I said?"

"You're going to shave my moustache off while I sleep. Congrats. It's your dream come true."

"You're awake, moron."

"I dunno - it all seems kind of like a nightmare when I look at you?"

She jabbed the razor at him and his innocent tone, he rolled his eyes. It was a safety razor, after all. She was lucky he didn't start lecturing about how to make threats count.

"But seriously, Billy. Remember what we talked about?"

"About not ... living like a dumbass."

Wow. He was acknowledging it. It was their one important conversation - held a bunch of times in differing ways, since that November night in 1984. Billy got stubborn about getting into that conversation basically every time ... but maybe that had changed now, along with so many other things.

Max put it differently, the way Billy had a few times: "Not living like you're being herded, not by your dad or me, or anyone. No more getting backed into corners." She didn't always agree with his way of seeing it, so she added another way she liked to put it: " _Really living_ , like, _finally_."

Any good that the warm towels were supposed to do would be lost if they kept going on and on and lost all that heat. Max looked him dead in the eyes and said, "You still haven't done it. You are still going to. No matter what else has happened."

Starting to shave him was probably a better way of convincing him she'd help than saying the words were. Billy was like that. It also made her feel a surprising level of better when he closed his eyes and silently let her get on with it - lying still and breathing evenly as she made dumb concentration-faces while dragging the razor carefully over his skin. He was probably tired again, but the fact that he didn't make a point of telling her that like an automatic "batteries not included" disclaimer on an advert made it feel like ... something postive. Trust, relaxation - something.

"You'd better be grateful," Max said as she towelled away the foam. Only three nicks in his skin. "The nurses would absolutely have got rid of your sleazy moustache if they'd done this." She had tried to sort of trim it with the razor so it didn't look bushy anymore, but it was still there.

Billy opened his eyes and looked like Billy again, eyebrows raised in surprise as he poked at his upper lip with the tip of his tongue. Then he smiled at her a little, which she wasn't as familiar with; she'd get used to it, though, she knew.


End file.
